


Help

by slaughterme



Series: Depression [2]
Category: No Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 19:38:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4317261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slaughterme/pseuds/slaughterme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A village in the middle of no where is plagued by an unknown evil.<br/>Every week the horror left after sundown is the same but one day it changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help

The village had seen nothing but dark, miserable, drizzling days for months on end and most days the villagers almost forget what the sun feels like, let alone looks like. Within those couple of months the village has had numerous thunder storms which sent the young children and one older boy in particular into shivering, huddled messes in the corner. 

Within those months the village has lost multiple children from the ages of ten to eighteen years old. These children often go missing for days before their corpses are found in the village centre, bloody and mangled. The bodies where left in such a mess it would have been impossible to know who the corpses belong to if it were not for their names written in their own blood before each body.

Every week the process was the same. Until it wasn’t.

They’d woken up in an empty house in the middle of the woods, the burnt and scarred wooden planks rubbing harsh against their face. After hours of looking they still had no clue on where they were apart from the fact it was a twisted, burnt, three story house without any signs of human life anywhere. All the walls, closets, draws and stands were bare and dusty. They fell asleep to the sound of their organs gurgling, stomach groaning and begging to be filled at almost midnight.

The second day they were there it got interesting. It was early into the afternoon when they’d finally picked up the courage to try and open the house’s only way out. The house had one door leading outside and the windows had been painted black. The wooden planks creaked and groaned in protest as they stomped over to the dark looming door. Everything was normal, everything was fine.

They’d reached out to grasp the heavy doorknob but the moment they turned the knob the room dropped ten degrees and their air grew thick with electricity. Within moments they were sent crashing back into the opposite wall, head slamming back, spine almost cracking from the weight pinning it before their vision went black.

They awoke hours later to the sound of rain pounding down on the rooftop. They hissed out a groan before rubbing the sleep from their eyes, stomach growling and tongue thick and heavy in their mouth. They frowned down at their stomach and the squelching sound their organs started to make. They started to move their hand down to their stomach to press down on it. A sudden pain slashed into their stomach. They let out an ear piercing scream as they felt invisible hands breach their skin and twist their organs around, invisible fingers squeezing them tightly before the feeling disappeared completely.

They sagged in relief, panting harshly, holding themselves up with their arms before collapsing back against the floor and curling around their stomach protectively. A dry, painful sob ripped it way from their chest and before they could stop themselves their where sobbing into their knees and begging to be anywhere but there.

They couldn’t sleep that night. It felt like someone had shoved a knife through their spine and shredded their insides with a poisoned blade. One point in the night the tears stopped coming but the dry sobs didn’t. They threw themselves sideways, dry heaving and gagging onto the floorboards before a concoction of blood, bile and the little food left in their stomach sprayed out, burning their throat. Spit and bile dribbled down their chin and before they could stop themselves they fell into their vomit and sobbed.

When morning came they started to freak out more. They could only survive so long without food, they needed water, and the taste of bile and bacteria filling their mouth was nothing short of putrid.

Midmorning they heard a voice. It was dark, cold and unwelcoming. “Give up NOW! It’ll hurt less my child, you have my word,” a deep voice boomed, echoing around the house.

The voice didn’t speak after that so they ignored the chill and the sudden goose bumps that had risen to their skin when the voice had spoken. They walked up the stairs, gasping as one of their feet fell through the board, only just managing to stop themselves from being brained on the railing. Once upstairs they attempted to open a window and just like the day before, the air thicken and dropped ten degrees but nothing attacked them this time. The windows had been painted black and the latch had rusted shut. They worked at the latch, trying to coax the window open but the air just got thicker. Soon they were gasping for air, vision blurring and head swimming.

With loud, heaving gasps they pushed away from the window and crawled across the floor, but the empty door frame they entered through was now closed up by a black door. Their eyes flew open wide. Their vision blacked out before they could even try and open the door.

They awoke just past midday, a wet substance coating their thighs. They reach down and rub their hand into the liquid, a silent scream tried to force itself from their mouth when their hand came back up coated in blood. The door was gone though. They stood up, wincing at the deep cuts coating their thighs and tried to ignore the feeling of blood dribbling down their legs.

This process happened for a couple more days until their body was on the verge of giving up from lack of food and water. They tried to drink their own spit which did almost nothing, they were going to drink their own pee but they didn’t have anything to start a fire to purify it. They were already thin to begin with. They almost never got to eat. They were a slave; they only got one meal a day. Now they were just skin sagging on brittle bones, shivering form the cold with failing organs and constantly loosing conscious.

On the tenth day they died. Their vision blackened at the edges and their brain pounded against their skull. They started to dry heave but unlike last time, they had nothing to left expel from their body and their chest and legs felt numb and tinging. Their ears rung loud and harsh and a rancid taste filled their mouth. What little spit they had left in their mouth slowly dribbled out the corner of their mouth, their muscles jolted and tensed.

Their pupils dilated, they couldn’t breathe, their heart raced. The taste of blood suddenly flooded their mouth when their jaw slammed shut, biting half of their tongue off. With blurry and darkening vision they attempted to scream as they watched their own body helplessly and uselessly thrash and spasm.

Then their movement stopped all together, not their heart or chest moved.

Unlike the others, they died with only a little mutilation, their thighs and back where the only things ripped open, the villagers didn’t look close enough to notice the tongue. Unlike the others, when their body was dumped back into the village, they had no name before them.

No one knew who they were anyway.


End file.
